


“There’s something I’m desperate to do.”

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Kisses [15]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 12:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: Continuing the series of shorts of possible first kisses between these two. Got a few ideas. Feel free to submit prompts for anything you’d like to see in the comments below or over on Tumblr at lulacat3.





	“There’s something I’m desperate to do.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kelvindalegirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelvindalegirl/gifts).



> A gift for Kelvindalegirl. Thank you for the prompt!
> 
> “After a few drinks, Strike just says, "Robin, there's something I'm desperate to do.......”

Robin finished her Saturday afternoon errands, which had included a trip to John Lewis for a particular gift for an aunt whose birthday was coming up, and found herself drifting down Oxford Street towards Tottenham Court Road. Might as well pop into the office, she thought. She could do to rewrite a couple of paragraphs of notes on the McCaffery file. It was nothing at all to do with hoping to bump into Strike, she told herself. She just needed to get the file properly tidied up, as Monday was already looking busy.

Nevertheless, she was disappointed to find the office locked up and no sign of Strike, nor sound of him in his flat above. She finished the file quietly, not at all listening hopefully for footsteps overhead, and then decided to just tidy up her latest notes on Redhead as well. By the time she had lingered over that file too, it was six o’clock. She sighed and looked at her watch. She was going to have to either admit to herself that she’d been hoping to see him, or go home to her empty flat and watch another boring film by herself. Angela was away with Luke for the weekend.

She fiddled about for a bit, tidying her desk, straightening things that didn’t need to be straightened, making sure all the mugs in the kitchenette were still clean and tidy.

Stop being silly, she told herself. She picked up her mobile and texted him.

“You about? Just finished up a few bits in the office if you fancy a drink? Rx”

The reply was swift. “In the usual spot! Come on down! C.”

Her heart skipped a beat with delight. Stop being so ridiculous, she told herself. But there was a lightness to her step as she locked up the office and hurried down the road to the Tottenham.

She found Strike on the other side of the bar to where they normally sat, the rowdier side with the big screen television. It was crowded and loud, but good-naturedly so. She waved at him across the crowds and he grinned back. She bought a pint for him and a glass of wine for herself and made her way over. Strike looked more than usually pleased to see her, and she deduced from the slight flush in his cheeks that he’d been in the pub for some time. She smiled fondly at him as she sat down, resisting a sudden urge to greet him with a kiss on the cheek, she was so pleased to see him. That wasn’t their normal behaviour, but then nor was meeting on a Saturday, totally separate from work.

“You just missed Nick,” Strike said. “It was the derby match this afternoon, Arsenal and Spurs.”

“Ah,” she said. “Have you been here all afternoon?”

“Pretty much,” he said, grinning. “Nick seemed very keen to get home. Think I should warn Ilsa he’s on his way with a gleam in his eye?” He chortled at his own joke, and Robin giggled at him. “What?” he demanded, grinning at her.

“Cormoran Strike, you’re tipsy!” she said. This was an unusual reversal of things for them, as normally he held his alcohol much better than she did.

He waved a dismissive hand at her. “You’ve seen me pissed,” he said.

“I know, properly drunk on a couple of occasions,” she said. “But that’s not what you are now.” She smiled at him fondly. “You’re tipsy. It’s... cute.”

He pulled a face at her and she laughed. “Evens the score a bit,” she said. “You’ve seen me tipsy loads of times.”

“That’s because it takes such a pathetically small amount of wine to get you there,” he said, laughing. He gestured at her glass, almost knocking it over. “Another one of those and you’ll have caught me up!”

She giggled. “That’s true,” she said. “Although being friends with you is increasing my alcohol tolerance rather alarmingly.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he said, grinning. “How come you were working on a Saturday? Aren’t we all up to date?”

“Oh, I just had a couple of things I wanted to rewrite, tidy my notes a bit,” Robin said, as casually as she could manage, but she could feel her cheeks were going pink. His sharp eyes spotted her colour at once. He’s not as tipsy as he looks, she thought, avoiding his gaze. Change the subject, quick.

“So, who won?” she asked.

“It was a draw,” Strike said. “Good game, though.” Robin was right in her assessment, he wasn’t drunk. But he was buoyed up with enough alcohol to be suddenly very sure that he was the reason for her apparent need to tidy files on a Saturday afternoon and then seek him out in the pub. The stern voice in his head that kept his feelings in check and told him that she only saw him as a colleague was silent this evening. He’d been delighted to receive her text, the surge of excitement at the thought of seeing her this evening drowning out caution. It was all he’d been able to do not to kiss her when she arrived.

“Have you eaten?” he asked. “Think there’ll probably be a bit of a wait on food, but I’ve got no plans tonight.”

“Me neither,” she said, delighted at the thought of an evening in his company. Her beaming smile startled him a little and he blinked. Oh, she’s gorgeous, he thought. She lights up when she smiles like that. He realised he was gazing dreamily at her and hurriedly pulled his eyes away. God, I could kiss her. Suddenly it was all he could think about. He wondered what her lips would feel like beneath his, if she would kiss him back.

“Cormoran?” Robin was looking at him, and he realised he had no idea what she’d just said.

“Sorry, miles away,” he said, flushing. She smiled at him, amused. “I said I’m not in any hurry to eat just yet,” she said. He nodded, distracted by the curve of her lips. Thoughts he normally kept firmly reined in had been loosed by the alcohol and by her unexpected arrival. He looked at her sat next to him, so cool and fresh-looking and gorgeous. Suddenly he felt as though he might explode if he didn’t kiss her right there and then.

She dipped her head a little to catch his eye. Is he staring at my mouth, she wondered. He still wasn’t saying anything, unexpectedly quiet. He raised his eyes to hers, and then she saw it, the longing that he normally hid so carefully. Her breath caught.

“Cormoran...” she said again, quietly, and the sound of his name spoken so softly from her lips took his breath away. Desire surged within him, unchecked by his normal strict boundaries. He couldn’t resist any longer. “Robin, there's something I'm desperate to do,” he said urgently. “May I kiss you?”

She squeaked a little in surprise, and dropped her head, shy. Then she looked back up at him. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

He leaned forward and captured her mouth with his own, not gently, but not rough either. Just sure and firm and... like he’d been waiting a long time to do it, she realised. She kissed him back and he moaned softly into her mouth, his tongue seeking hers. His hands came up to cup her face and he kissed and kissed her, eager, insistent. Eventually, breathless and giggling, she pulled free, her hands capturing his.

“Cormoran, slow down,” she laughed, her cheeks flushed. “We’re in the pub, remember!” He gazed around, a little disoriented. He’d genuinely forgotten about everything except the feel of her kissing him back. He blushed. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Been wanting to do that for so long.”

She squeezed his hands with her own. “Me too,” she said, and he grinned at her, dazed.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Number 15!!! I never dreamed when I started these that it would run so far, and apart from the initial one and one more that were my ideas, all the rest have been prompts! You guys are so ace. I have enough in the pipeline to get to 20, do we keep going or leave it there? There must be only so many possibilities...


End file.
